A Mother's Journey: Clinging to Faith Through Unimaginable Fear

It was Shabbat of Simchat Torah, when Agam Berger first stepped onto the Nachal Oz base as a lookout. Agam, 19, who has a twin sister named Leeyam born two minutes earlier, is a gifted violinist playing since age 8. The Berger family, from Holon, is close-knit. Parents, Shlomi and Merav, saw her off only two days prior.

Morning came, and so did the chaos. "There were too many alarms," Merav recounts. "We took shelter in the secured room in Bar's room, Agam's younger sister. Then Agam called her sister since I keep Shabbat and my phone was off. She said chaos was erupting in the south. Forty-five minutes later, she called me: 'There's shooting from terrorists, but I'm not afraid,' then the call ended. That was our last conversation."

"That Shabbat turned into a nightmare. We didn't know her superiors at the base or where to turn. Her course friends said she was in the command center and out of reach, reassuring us that she was safe. In hindsight, I know her commanders had a clearer picture by late morning. All Shabbat, I held onto the information that she was in the command center, assuming she was safe in the underground bunker. But by Saturday night, we learned that Nachal Oz had suffered a severe blow and there were rumors of a fire."

"At that point, I shut down media and phone, turned to my book of Psalms, and disconnected from everything. The messages came pouring in from her fellow lookout operatives. Still, there were no updates from Nachal Oz, and that started the real nightmare. I remember lying in bed with my husband in tears, unable to reach anyone, realizing something was wrong. Eventually, I saw the Hamas-released video sent by a fellow captive's mother and saw Agam in it. I still can't bring myself to watch that video."

Merav describes the chaos that ensued until they received official military confirmation of Agam's capture. "For a week, there was nothing official from the army, only confusion and helplessness. It wasn't until Wednesday they labeled her as missing, finally confirming captivity the following Sunday by facial verification. Oddly, it was a relief to know she was a hostage considering the gruesome fate of her course-mates."

How have you been coping day-to-day?

"Some count the days and hours; I count minutes. Every minute feels like eternity. The initial month and a half, I was in shock, unreachable. Like Agam, I'd shut down, isolated except for sleeping pills and non-stop Psalms. Coming back to my phone, 3,000 WhatsApp messages awaited."

"I travel to places of prayer: Rashbi, the Cave of the Patriarchs. I fight for Agam on every front, spiritually and physically. I pray, bake challah, attend classes, visit holy sites. We brought in a Torah scroll for her; weekly, during Shabbat services, readings occur in the building's synagogue, where I find my true connection."

"We're living in a twisted world lacking values and morality. It's unfathomable that 19-year-olds like Agam could remain hostages so long. At first, I thought she'd be back by the next Shabbat — just a matter of logistics. Yet, we're faced with a cruel, unpredictable reality."

Tell us more about Agam.

"She's the heartbeat of our family. Playing violin since childhood, Agam finished high school with a focus on music, volunteered with at-risk youth. Spiritually connected, her choice to play the violin aligns with that. She's wise, family-oriented, kind-hearted."

Agam said, 'My mom won't do interviews,' but you chose to speak up. Why?

"She's right; she knows her Mom. I do everything for her, even now as we talk. Until the kidnapping, our family life was private and contained; family was everything. I'm a project manager and have always put family first, and this blindsided us unexpectedly."

"The fight is daily: lobbying decision-makers, both in Israel and abroad. My husband flew to Washington, our daughters to Geneva. Ashley Waxman Bakshi, a relative who immigrated from Canada, campaigns globally on our behalf."

Any particularly significant moments in this journey since the kidnapping?

"Yes, a military officer asked if I wanted to meet anyone during this ordeal — anyone at all. I wished for my mother, but she's gone. Her passing prompted my existential questions, and through content like lectures from Rabbi Manis Friedman and Rabbi Aaron Levi, I've sought meaning."

"When asked, I requested Rabbi Aaron Levi's presence. He came, knowing few words would suffice for captive parents. In our outdoor porch adorned with Agam's portrait, he asked what I thought troubled Agam most. Without hesitation, I replied, 'Worrying about me.' 'So don't give her a reason,' he advised. That marked my mental transition from despair, a pivotal moment in our struggle."

"There was more, related to the Chabad community in Holon. My son's bar mitzvah approached; we connected with Rabbi Mendy. Our first venture outside was to the Chabad house, where we helped prepare and distribute meals amidst the conflict. Later, a Chabad delegation flew us — hostage relatives — to the Rebbe's gravesite in New York. A whirlwind 48-hour mission involved stops in Washington, a rally, and meetings with Congress and the Senate. The private jet was an extraordinary experience."

How are Agam's siblings handling the situation?

"Ilyay, the youngest, recently celebrated his bar mitzvah without her. Mentally, he's detached from our public struggle, avoids gatherings like the Shabbat rallies for captives. Yet, he joined a potent experience: walking with us from Beit Shemesh to Shaar HaGai, honoring soldiers with stretchers, and we spent Shabbat in Jerusalem."

"Leeyam, Agam's twin, confronts it as well. With Agam cut off at the base, Leeyam was unexpectedly summoned under emergency circumstances. She almost packed for deployment amidst uncertain news from other bases. It took some time before I insisted she stay put due to Agam's status."

"Months later, strangers claiming to be fellow soldiers spread word about carrying Agam's photo. 'You can't let them search while you're here,' I told Leeyam. She's now stationed at Tel Hashomer, balancing duties with our advocacy work. She's participated in international engagements and runs the Instagram page for Agam, documenting and updating as needed."

Then came a sign of life from Agam in captivity. What was it like to receive that?

"Yes, there were two hopeful instances. One came a month post-abduction through intelligence confirming her physical state. Another emerged on November 26 when Agam Goldstein was released, having spent a week with Agam. Beyond that, information remains scant."

"A captive, held a month and a half longer, shared her experiences with Agam. In the first three harrowing days, Agam refused water fearing contamination by the captors. This extraordinary account verified her health motivation despite harsh conditions."

How did you feel learning she fought to observe Shabbat and maintain kosher?

"It didn't surprise me; it thrilled me. Reports say she even refused non-kosher meat while under Hamas family watch. Her steadfast faith brings comfort knowing Hashem is with her, protecting her. Agam's phone screen always read, 'I chose the path of faith.' In her diary, left behind, she wrote: 'I believe Hashem is with me at every step, seeking unconditional love.' Faith sustains her in this nightmare, and we clench to our belief in Hashem's plans, trusting He's by their side."